Romancing riles yoga classes

Practitioners resent men who spoil peaceful mood

August 29, 2007|By Joelle Hann, New York Times News Service

The words "Do you come here often?" are not sweet nothings when you are going into final relaxation during a yoga class. Nor do most yoga practitioners welcome someone who flirts shamelessly as mats are positioned during the lull before the teacher arrives.

Now, a popular online video starring a lech named Ogden has the yoga community chuckling in recognition and talking about the problem of men who come to studios in search of phone numbers rather than enlightenment.

The comedy sketch, aptly named "Inappropriate Yoga Guy," has racked up nearly 1.8 million views since its debut on YouTube in June -- no doubt the biggest hit to date for GoPotato.tv, an online comedy network in Los Angeles, which produced the video starring Avi Rothman.

Wearing a goofy headband, Ogden "oms" far too loudly, brags about the retreats he has attended in Nepal and Mexico, and makes eyes at Kimberly, a buxom long-haired beauty, during class. He even grabs her hips to perform an adjustment.

Hilarious as it is, "Inappropriate Yoga Guy" raises a delicate issue that the video now has people discussing openly: that while the majority of yogis are respectful and friendly, a handful of interlopers use classes to hit on a succession of lithe, toned regulars. More than a dozen students and teachers and six studio owners interviewed for this article said they knew an Ogden-type character.

"There's always a guy who wants to put his mat next to the hot girl," said Hillary Raphael, 31, a writer based in Washington. Raphael, in her 20 years of practice, has found inappropriate yoga guys so prevalent in studios that she wove them into her novel, "Backpacker," to be published next month by Creation Books.

Unspoken rules

Yoga regulars aren't prudes; rather most of them abide by some unspoken rules (such as no talking or no looking around) that some newcomers unwittingly break in pursuit of comely dates.

Raphael described an experience she had during a vinyasa class she used to attend at Sal Anthony's Movement Salon in Manhattan. "All you could hear was people's steady breathing," she said. "Yet this guy next to me was trying to strike up a conversation the whole time."

The man, who was in his early 40s, used a loud stage whisper to ask about Raphael's hobbies. "You could hear people's breath sagging and stopping," she said. "They couldn't believe it."

Other men are even bolder. Stephanie King, 40, a jewelry designer who practices yoga five times a week in Los Angeles, said she has had cringe-worthy encounters during her 20 years of practice. In one instance, a fellow regular King had met in passing approached her after a power yoga class and asked if she had enjoyed her practice. She had. Then, apropos of nothing, he asked if she wanted to be his lover.

King calmly told the man she would think about it. After a particularly intense practice, it can take a moment to regroup and get your social bearings. But once at her car, she called him and said, "I just want to let you know that I'm going to pass on being your lover."

Her politeness masked annoyance. "I was put out because he just ruined my blissful feeling after class," she said.

Another time, an attractive man stretched his hand out during a floor twist until it rested on King's breast; he removed his hand when asked.

"If you're going to a yoga studio to pick up girls, or boys for that matter, you're not doing yoga," said Lama Sumati Marut, 54, president of the Yoga Studies Institute in Tucson, Ariz.

Yoga, done seriously, is a discipline designed to achieve enlightenment in this lifetime, he said.

Needless to say, not everyone who drops into a yoga class is on a spiritual path. Consider the women at Yoga Works in Midtown Manhattan who can't help flirting with Steve Eisenberg, much to his delight. "It's a very social environment," said Eisenberg, 38, a consultant who helps companies create digital media.

"They'll say, 'I've seen you around,' and start chatting," added Eisenberg, who is single and said he enjoys the attention.

The question is: What responsibility does a studio or a teacher have if one student is making another uncomfortable?

Some instructors, such as Kelly McGonigal, 29, who teaches at Stanford University and at the Avalon Art and Yoga Center in Palo Alto, Calif., take matters into their own hands.

"I had a popular class that some of the regulars stopped showing up to because a guy was relentlessly hitting on them," said McGonigal, who has a doctorate in psychology and edits the International Journal of Yoga Therapy. She confronted the overeager student in question, and he backed off, saying it was all a misunderstanding.

Oblivious to perceptions

"He didn't realize that he was perceived as hitting on people when he invited them out to dinner or to parties," she said.

Teachers, who are most likely to notice misbehavior, are the ones who should aim to make their classes safe havens free of distractions, said Judith Hanson Lasater, president of the California Yoga Teachers Association.